


An hour after midnight

by MissUfo



Series: If Hardeen Could, Hadeen would and Hardeen Definitley should [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (???), Drugs, Excessive Drinking, F/M, Female Obi-Wan Kenobi, Flirting, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Humiliation, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm happy to announce Oh-Hundred is now his own warning, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Multi, Not sure what posessed me to write this, Nudity, Other, alcoholic Obi-Wan Kenobi, an excessive ammount, anakin is not super nice in this, exessive amounts of strangling, graphic violence against a woman, rako hardeen arc, still humorous, undercover mission turns for the worse, would you look at those tags, you wouldn't even tell this sprouted from crack territories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-08-22 07:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissUfo/pseuds/MissUfo
Summary: Undercover as Rako Hardeen, Obi-Wan slips on an unusual persona and does not expect to be so dearly missed.(Fem Rako Hardeen arc, now with way more booze and even more flirting.)





	1. Dyed hair

**Author's Note:**

> Holy wow, so this is going to be bad.  
> My brain made this up even before i even made it to the Rako Hardeen Arc. Watching it made nothing to kill it, either  
> Hardeen's persona is not at all like it is in TCW. It kind of just became extremely flirty. Expect some quotes from Mae West to pop up in dialoge, because i'm not original.  
> I would also warn the reader that one of the character in this is very, very not nice. Violence and other disturbing acts are to be expected of him.  
> If you want to read brainless crack with the same setting, the story's original script is available in the attached work "Hardeen will because Hardeen Can"  
> Enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After re-reading my script to accomodate my new chapter, I cringed to hard (as if it's less cringey now) I decided to re-write this entire chapter. It follows through about the same as it did before, but now with extra foreshadowing and big sad.  
> If you're still interested in reading the cringey original for a good shitty laugh, I decided to publish it in another work for your enjoyment. You'll find it in the "Hardeen's no good very bad day" collection (I think that's how I called it?? I'll get back to you all when I actually post the damned thing.)

Capturing Rako hardeen had been a success, unsurprisingly. It had been way too easy to take care of a drunken bounty hunter, even easier to convince her to fall asleep with a bit of conviction from the force.

They took no time in exchanging her clothes with Obi-Wan’s. The skimpy thing, more revealing than her layered tunic and veil, made the woman’s hair stand on end. She’d never noticed how chilly it could get on Coruscant.

Adjusting her pants for the fourth time, she turned to Windu. The korun casually stood aside, looking at whatever little trinkets were posted on the bed stand near him, before glancing at her.

“How do I look?” She quipped, cocking her hip to the side jokingly as the man’s eyes roamed on her visible stomach

"Like a criminal." Windu’s eyes snapped to her face. He skimmed over the tattoo resting on her forehead and passing over her eye before glaring in distaste at the part of her hair they’d shaved off.

She chuckled, turning to look at herself in the mirror. playing with what was left of her hair, she styled the silver and red strands more decently. Her copper hair was her pride, but she had to admit, having it dyed was an interesting experience.  
Though she did have to change her hair, the cloaking cosmetic they put on her hadn’t altered her facial structure in great lengths; she and Hardeen looked surprisingly alike, based on the pictures they found in the criminal database. She was also quite known to hate leaving her face visible while out and about. This played in their favor.

“So, are you ready to get arrested, now?” Mace asked, putting a hand in his tunic and pulling out a small, sphere-like object from it.

“I think I’m properly done up for it, yes.” She replied, turning to face the Jedi master. He handed her the little device, which upon further inspection, had small legs sticking out of it. This was the voice changer, she assumed. “How does it work?”

“You swallow it.” Mace said, causally. “You better hurry up, your former padawan will not waste any time getting here.”

The woman sighed. “Quite.” She lifted the small device to her mouth, taking a deep breath before shoving it between her lips and swallowing it.

She was choking, force-fed and suffocating all at once. clasping her hands to her neck, she doubled over in discomfort as she felt the cursed machine move inside her throat, prodding as it adjusted correctly.

coughing out, Obi-Wan feared for a moment she would spit out the device and will have to start over again. She did not.

Slowly, the device immobilized itself. Trembling, the woman hesitantly put a hand atop her throat, shocked to find no sort of mound where her insides assured her there should be one.

“…This will need some getting- “she cleared her throat, shocked of hearing a voice that wasn’t exactly her own come from her mouth. “Some time getting used to.” She commented with a wince.

“Yes, time we do not have.” The korun hovered near her. The room fell silent. Obi-Wan peered at his face; a blank slate, revealing none of his tension unfolding through the force like a transparent smoke.

“Something troubles you.” She pointed out softly. The woman knew the argument that would follow before it even began.

“…It’s not too late for me to inform Anakin of your faked death-” He muttered, gaze meeting hers mid-sentence.

“Mace.” The silver haired woman cut in. “Anakin cannot know.” Her tone was gentle but still firm. Her word was final.

She pat the Korun’s shoulder, offering him one last smile. She was glad it was but faintly reciprocated as she removed her hand from his shoulder as her friend took a step back.

“I have to go; your arrest party is almost here.” He bowed slightly before walking over to the room’s windows and cracking one open. “Good luck, Hardeen.”

And with that, he slipped out the window and left.

Hardeen waved off to the disappearing form before turning to the table at the center of the room, contemplating the half empty bottle sitting on it.

Making up her mind, she walked over and took it in hand.  
Obi-Wan noticed it as they first walked in, but she’d ignored it in Mace’s presence.

She flicked the cap off and, after debating finding a glass and deciding it wasn’t necessary as she was drinking alone, finally brought the large bottle to her lips.

The liquor tasted like motor oil and went down as terribly, but she drank it to the very bottom regardless. Once finished, the empty bottle nearly slipped from her hand.  
Satisfaction swelled over her in the welcoming tingle of tipsiness taking over. She walked over to the door, finding it a lot less hard to walk in her new heeled boots than she anticipated, only to be proven an illusion as she nearly walked straight into the paristeel contraption.

She’d had problems with drinking at the start of knighthood, but had quickly forced the bad habit away, for Anakin’s sake; the woman didn’t want the boy to see his master in such a pitiful state. Obi-Wan had been happily clean for a while, but as the war came,the drinking came back. At first, she only needed a single shot a day, but it quickly escalated as the weeks stretched into months. She had, at some point, carried a flask on her, hidden in a pouch for when she needed it.

That was until, on a weeklong mission, she’d forgotten it.

She’d gotten so numb and unfocused she stole one of the medic’s painkiller capsules and used that instead. She immediately regretted it when a rookie caught a thermal grenade to protect her. Now with no painkillers left, he had to sit through his recovery un-sedated.

The screech of pain and sorrow unsettled her during the day, as they trekked from an objective point to another. It haunted her at night, making it impossible to sleep, or do anything but listen to the rookie’s pained sobs through the paper-thin walls of her tent. She only made it through two hours after the curfew before she gave up and sneaked to the clone’s tent.

The woman numbed the pain as best as she could but wasn’t able to force suggest the poor man to a peaceful sleep. He kept stirring, from fever or nightmares, she could not tell.  
The only way he would rest peacefully was to hold his hand and whisper a lullaby to him, the one she used to sing to Anakin when he had nightmares.

She did it for the four days that were left of the campaign, not getting an hour of sleep; the regret ate at her too much to do so.

As they got back, General Kenobi, on top of paying for a full bacta treatments for the shiny who didn’t even bore a sobriquet yet, sworn to never drink again. It had been difficult on both her mind and soul, but she managed to stay an entire year sober, until…

Untill Umbara. And the flask reappeared after her return to Zygerria.

That had happened just a week ago. She tried really hard to keep her drinking to a minimum, but she wasn’t strong enough to stop herself from downing one helping of her flask every day.

Even if the tipsiness of alcohol had become necessary, Obi-Wan Kenobi attempted to keep her drinking modest.

But Hardeen, she wanted to drink until her liver shriveled up and died. So, she opened the door and let the deafening sound of heavy synth music down the hall envelop her as she walked closer to the main room of the cantina. Once reaching the main room, the woman made a beeline for the bar and ordered a drink from the snake-like sentient manning it. She knocked it back the and finished the entire thing in less than a minute, before demanding another one.

“You sure celebrate hard, Hardeen.” The sentient commented, watching her knock back the glass and swallow down the burning liquid in two large gulps.

“No one celebrates harder than me, dear.” The woman leaned on the counter, raising her glass to the Anacondan, who chuckled at her quip. The liquor was starting to make the world fuzzy. She felt, in her drunken stuptor, alike these dangerous maneater women in the holos, who could break anyone and anything sentient apart with a single look of their mean eyes.

Obi-Wan had always, discreetly, looked up to them, but never dared to be anything close of the sort. the woman was a Jedi, she flirted with danger, but that was as far as she would take it.

Hardeen, however, she could go so further beyond; She could be those dangerous, flirtatious women herself.

The silver haired woman smiled down at her empty glass, her throat now parched from all the liquor she'd ingested.

If Hardeen could, then Hardeen would.

She laid her chest down on the counter, placing the glass on the counter near her before being handed another one.

“From the man over there.” The bartender said, pointing to the corner of the room. A Kajain'sa'Nikto raised his cup to her, throwing her the Nikto equivalent of a smile.

She raised a hand to wave hello, taking a sip of her drink with heavy eyes. The world felt like it was slowly spinning on its axis.  
It should alarm her, but she knew it wasn’t because of some drug, so she could care less at this very moment. The male who paid for her drink had gotten up from his table and was making his way to her.

The woman passed a hand through her long hair, making it slide over her shoulder to rest atop her chest.

“you dance?” The Nikto asked as he approached, leaning on the bar next to her.

Hardeen, flirty, dangerous Hardeen, just replied with a sultry smile and presenting her hand, resting her face in the palm of her other.

Without a question, he took thw hand and lead her off to the dancefloor.

Oh, she would enjoy this, she could already tell.


	2. Arrest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello once more.  
> So i'm not 100% sure what went through my mind when I wrote this part?  
> also the flirting begins, so enjoy that after the walk to the senate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've edited a phrase in this chapter. dosen't really do anything plotwise, but just to set up a flashback in the next chapter, as to not throw off anyone.

Anakin and Ashoka found Hardeen later that night in the club’s backroom, curled up against a shirtless Nikto the woman had learned was called Di-Ak-Ti. Nothing really happened in between them, both were way too intoxicated to get further than just kissing and wrestling endlessly. Once they got tired of that, Di lit himself a spice joint and shared it with her.

That had been the first time she kissed someone, made out with someone, gotten so badly drunk and smoked a joint. All in the same night she got arrested and thrown in jail, too!

Trial had been quick, the transfer to the prison even faster, but she was happy for it; It seemed she overestimated how well Anakin would have taken her death ,since after she sobered up, the woman was horrified realizing that, after giving her a good beating, Anakin immediately dragged her out of the club, not letting her put anything to cover her upper half.

And of course, a fair crowd had been there to take pictures. Now a crude, unfiltered picture of Rako Hardeen, recently famous for killing Obi-Wan Kenobi, topless, crawling on the concrete as she got dragged by her hair by none other than legendary Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, up the stairs of the senate was all over the holonet.

The worst part, however, was that Ashoka witnessed the entire thing. Obi-wan knew how her death probably affected her as much as Anakin, but she'dseen how the Togruta stared at the scene helplessly, and how she shielded her face when they’d taken the pictures.

The Jedi Master didn’t know if she’d be able to look the poor girl in the eyes after this.  
She didn’t know how she’d be able to speak to anyone she knew that had saw it after this.

It had been, the woman wouldn’t lie, the most humiliating walk to the senate she’d done in her life.

But, as much as it hurt, Obi-Wan couldn’t let that distract her right now, she had a mission to do, she would worry about the aftermath when it was over.

By the exception of the walk there, her time at the senate was all smooth sailing after that. Senator Amidala, who had joined the trial, had refused to let it resume unless they covered Hardeen up, to the woman's joy.

After they elected her sentence, Anakin requested he’d take her to the prison himself, but Padme, bless her heart, had protested it, instead opting for a heavy guard, which was granted.

Obi-Wan had bared a newfound respect for the senator. She knew how close she and Anakin had become, and her love of democracy spoke volume on how she opted for fair treatment to the accused, rather than doing nothing at all and let her lover keep on humiliating her, like the rest of the court had done before she stepped in.

Getting to the prison was a silent process, unsurprisingly. She knew better than to await her guards to strike a conversation with her, and she’d be in over her head to try and talk to them.

After being thoroughly searched and given a prison uniform, which she gladly put on after several hours of walking around with nothing to cover her upper half other than a near transparent veil, which was apparently the only thing they had in hand to cover her in the senate.

On the mission report, it just said to take Moralo Eval’s attention with whatever means necessary. Before the “senate incident”, she had planned to just take it by walking around dressed provocatively, but after she zipped up the suit atop the white, bland undershirt for the uniform, she decided she wasn’t showing anything under her neck anytime soon.

The rumor mill of the prison seemed to run quickly, seeming as the initial impression she wanted to give, by being “that one bounty hunter who killed Obi-Wan”, was quickly batted away to become “that one woman who showed her tits to the entire senate after being arrested.”

As much as Obi-Wan hated it, Hardeen just had to roll with it, seeming as it took more attention than the killing a legendary Jedi shtick ever could. She only sat in the cafeteria a whole 30 seconds before a Karkadoron walked up to her.

“Well it’s her.” He said, staring down at her while she took a bite of her food, only to spit it out almost immediately.” The Jedi killer.” He turned to look at a small group of other sentients that had followed him.

Force, what was that mush even made of?  
The other leaned down at her level picking up her glass of water, giving it a glance before gazing back at her.

“You don’t look so tough.” He commented, getting more and more in her face. Hardeen just turned to look as him, resting her chin in the palm of the back of her hand.

“Oh, and why is that, sweetie?” She flashed him a smile. She knew, small as she was, that sheer force wouldn’t work against the karkadoron. It was obvious he wanted something from her, but years of being the Negotiator assured that if she played her cards right, she could ultimately get rid of him with little to no violence. The male snickered at her comment, imitated by his friends.

“A pretty thing like you can’t possibly be so tough.” He said as he reached a hand to touch her hair, which was quickly batted away by Hardeen, still showing all her teeth.

“Pretty things can be deadly.” She countered playfully, looking over her well-kept nails. The male’s friends laughed at that too but were quickly silenced by a growl from their leader.

“I saw your arrest this morning.” The karkadoron said, reaching for the collar of her suit this time. “Me and my friends here would really like to se a reenactment in person.” He said wolfishly, taking the zip of the uniform in between his large fingers.

“This food tastes terrible.” Hardeen said, batting his hand away, smile unmoving. In once swift movement, she stabbed the male’s other hand, resting on the table near her, making him howl in pain. She reached out to grab him by the grills, causing a new series of painful cries from the lifeform, before she yanked him closer, whispering in his ear, grinning like a predator;

“Maybe you’d taste better.”

“Hey, what’s going on down there?” a guard trooper from the balcony called out.

She let the karkadoron go, who immediately backed away, nursing his head grills, as his hand started to bleed out where the ustensil had stabbed it, tainting his white fins red.  
“Sorry officer, just playing with my food.” She said, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers as she gave the most innocent smile she could muster to the red armored clone. She winced internally.  
Yeah, that wasn’t the best quip she’d came up with today.

“She's crazy!” He shouted, clearly angry. “come on, she’s not worth it.” He said, turning around. His goons quickly followed, one of them making an obscene gesture to the woman, still sitting at her spot, waving at the fleeing group teasingly.

The silver haired woman got back to her plate, staring at the offending grub as she listened. Chatter had birthed in the cafeteria, creating a white noise.  
She sighed faintly, digging at her food with her spoon, before pinching her nose and bringing it to her mouth, interrupted when a small bottle of sauce slid near her tray.  
“Use this.” She looked up to the bearer of the voice and smiled as she put her spoon down.

Moralo Eval. Exactly the man she was looking for.

“makes that tasteless mush almost bearable.” The phindian explained, leaning on the table. She took the container, not breaking eye contact with the male as she opened the lid and let some of its content fall drip atop her food.

“So, Rako Hardeen. I see your reputation preceeds you.” Eval said, gesturing around where the karakdoron and his gang had fled. “you won’t survive long in prison if you keep it up.” He added with a sly smile, which she promptly returned, leaning back as she put the scauce bottle down, on the table and took her bowl of soup in hand.

“I don’t start fights,” She replied, her grin falling on the flirtatious.” But I always finish them.”

The male chuckled, leaning closer, but still letting her keep her space, which she was grateful for. She’d had a rough day.  
She sipped her soup, still not content with how tasteless it was, but at least, with the spices, it didn’t taste like utter bantha shit.

“I’m curious,” The phinian paused, giving her a once-over.” when you killed that Jedi, was it for money, or revenge?”  
Hardeen put her soup bowl down on her tray, scraping a nail along her jaw as she kept eye contact with the male.

Obi-Wan would be lying if she said flirting with her target wasn’t fun.

“I don’t know,” she replied, casually as she rested her chin atop her hand, like she had done a few minutes before. “Guess I was bored.” She said, leaning closer to the male.  
He smiled, seeming satisfied with the answer, as he slowly got up from his seat.

“I’ll be seeing you, miss Hardeen.” He said in a low voice, before walking away.

The woman watched Eval leave, a smirk growing on her lips.  
She might be having too much fun, but that didn't mean she'd stop.


	3. Cad Bane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ullo.  
> So, big summary for this chapter:  
> \- The cell scene, now with flirting (Bane hates it.)  
> \- two Clone OCs i made up on the spot (I stole Romeo's name from ladyjediknight, but they're not meant to be the same character at all)  
> \- Anakin says "fuck" in front of the Jedi Council (That includes Yoda. I figured because he's so mad, he should be given the privilege of the first curse in form of dialog in this fic.)  
> **In other news, this chapter has been slightly modified after being posted, as one of the character was inconsistent within this chapter and the one coming next.

“There, Hardeen. Your new home.” The trooper at her side told her as they approached the lazer shielded cell.

“Well, thank you for the ride, boys.” She winked at the clone working on her handcuffs, who laughed nervously in response as he took the large durasteel armatures off

“Don’t encourage her, Romeo.” The senior trooper of the two grounded, hitting the poor shiny upside the head. He turned to the prisoner, raising a finger at her. “And you. You better behave. I heard about your little incident in the cafeteria. I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude here.” He threatened her, poking her shoulder harshly.  
The silver haired woman smiled, keeping eye contact with the man’s helmet covered face. Yet another thing that was interesting about being undercover; The clones didn’t feel the need to show her any sign of authority. Quite the contrary; she was treated as if she was directly ranked below all of them, which was strangely exciting, seeing as they saw no reason to act professional or be be polite towards her.

When she got back to being a General, she might just give her men more leeway with professionalism; Seeing the clones acting as something else than perfect soldiers was strangely refreshing.  
The woman didn’t last half an hour in the establishment before caving in and flirting with the guards. Hardeen had flirted with everyone else, anyhow, why would she put a barrier between her and the clones? She raised a hand in a casual salute to the senior trooper, doing something Obi-wan had secretly always wanted to do;

“Yes sir.” She quipped, showing all her teeth.

There was a pregnant pause before the man snapped his head away, taking a step back.

“Throw her in the cell and get done with it, shiny.” The senior trooper ordered, turning back to the clone he’d referred as “Romeo”. The superior leaned on one of the rails, looking away from the other two on the platform. The shiny looked back at his superior officer. Both him and the prisoner he held captive looked at the man, confused, before Romeo spoke up once more;

“Oh-hundred, are you- “

“Just do it, Romeo!” The one apparently called Oh-Hundred snapped, tightening his grip on the rail. 

The shiny did quick work of getting her in the small bunked room, literally throwing her in, like he’d been instructed, causing the woman to groan in pain on impact with the metal ground.

“Sorry Hardeen, orders are orders.” The recruit mumbled nervously before she heard the light barriers go up once more.  
She looked behind her, to see the platform that had carried her to her cell hover away.

Alright, so maybe that phrasing wasn’t as funny to the clones as she’d initially thought it would

She looked behind her, to see the platform that had carried her to her cell hover away.

Alright, so maybe that phrasing broke the clones as badly as she’d initially feared it would.  
The woman would keep that in mind, for future references. She’d also made a mental note to write an apology letter to poor Oh-Hundred once the mission was over.  
The silver vixen slowly got up, looking around the small, stuffy cell, spotting its other inhabitant.

Well, what did you know.

“It’s a small world, it seems.” She told the other inmate as she dusted off her uniform.

“Not quite.” The phinian replied a smirk playing at his lips as he put his hands behind his back, taking an imposing stance.” I am Moralo Eval, and I have a lot of influence here.” He explained, taking a step towards her.

“Well color me flattered.” She replied, putting a hand over her chest dramatically, drawing a chuckle from the other present in the room. “I didn’t know I’d let such an impression.”

“You stabbed a murderer with a fork, girlie. I’m not sure how you didn’t expect to leave an impression with that.” A familiar voice called from atop a bunk. She looked up, smile fraying when she recognized the duros sitting on it.

Cad Bane.  
Oh, joy.  
“Why is she here?” the man asked the other, gesturing to the woman.

“Oh, where are my manners. let me do the introductions; Cad, I’m sure you saw Hardeen before, regarding her…” The phinian paused, seeming to want to express how she became most known for being half-naked on the news in the politest was possible. “Arrest.” He settled, causing the woman in question to roll her eyes. “And Hardeen, this is the infamous bounty hunter Cad Bane.” He introduced as the duros jumped off the bed and walked up to her, sizing her.

“A pleasure.” She said playfully, offering her hand to shake.

“Oh yeah, the one who killed Obi-Wan Kenobi with a sniper rifle.” The male said as he batted the hand away, slowly circling the woman. “Don’t think you impress me, flasher” He almost spit in her face, but she stood proud, but not wiping the smirk off her face as she cocked a silver brow.” Anyone can kill a Jedi if they’re good enough of a shot.” Cad crossed his arms, stilling at her six.

“If you say so.” She replied casually, leaning on her hip. “But I can assure you, Cad Bane, I’m a hard shot to swallow.” Her smile broadened when the bounty hunter’s only reply was smacking his lips in annoyance.

“Sharp tongued, that’s what I like about You, Hardeen.” The phinian said with a chuckle, shooting a finger at her. “But on a more serious matter, I think her skills could be of some value for our plan. She has the guts” He turned to Cad Bane, who had made his way to the bottom bunk and thrown himself on it.

“A plan?” The woman spoke up, walking to the opposite bunk and sitting on it. “Do enlighten me.” She said, leaning on a hand in a way she knew would show her figure, even through the thick fabric of the prison uniform.

“I’m proposing you a job, a bigger game than Jedi.” Eval said in a low voice as he leaned on the bedframe of the bunk Bane was currently inhabiting. The duros and the human glanced at each other for a moment before the silver haired woman gazed back at the criminal mind in the room.

“Go on.” She pried, crossing her legs.

“It’s a brilliant plan, if I do say so.” The male paused. “and it involves the chancellor.”

The vixen ran a nail along her jaw, smirk growing wider.

“how much are we talking about?”

“more than you could ever imagine.” Cad bane spoke up, the woman’s gaze falling to him. He had his legs off the bed, leaning forward, before turning to face his current employer. “If you’re making me break out the diva as well, it’ll cost you double.” He grumbled, grasping his hands together.

Hardeen let out a pretend gasp, resting a palm over her chest.

“I’m hurt.” She teased, tilting her head.

“Don’t play smart with me, Hardeen.” The duros hissed, standing up. “If you want my respect, you do it face to face.” The silver haired woman chuckled, causing the bounty hunter’s brow to tighten in confusion, like he was left out on the joke.

“Well, if you want my opinon, women who seek respect from a man like you lack ambition.” She replied casually, inspecting her nails with a grin.

“scratch that, make it triple.” The blue skinned male shot at Eval, who laughed at the woman’s new quip on behalf of his partner. “would you quit encouraging her!” He growled at the phinian.

“I’m afraid you’re the sole encouragement I need, Cad Bane."She let the name roll off her tongue like velvet." You look so adorable when you’re angry.” She commented, grinning blindingly when it got straight to Bane’s nerves.  
She really should stop getting the duros irritated, but she couldn’t help herself. It was so interesting to see the sly Cad bane get so impatient.

“Get her out of here, or I’m quadrupling our initial agreement, the lady included or no!” Eval raised both hands in defeat at that.  
“All right, all right. Guards!” He called out the cell before walking over to the silver vixen’s sitting spot. “It’s a shame, but it seems this cell is too big for the three of us.” He said curtly, gesturing for her to get up, which she did in no rush.

The phinian put her hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the front of the cell as the hovering platform approached.

“It was a pleasure chatting with you, dear Hardeen, but you’re going to forget everything you heard in here.” He instructed as they stilled a few feet from the laser barrier. The male gripped her by the waist, pushing her closer to him. “Moralo Eval would hate to slaughter you.” He whispered to her with a smirk, tone laced in threat.

As the barrier shut down, the phinian let the woman go, watching as she walked over to the platform.

“Ah, Romeo! pleasure seeing you again.” She grinned, presenting her wrists to the shiny waiting for her.

The guard took a step back, squeezing a chuckle from the inmate. It seemed he was surprised she recognized him. She looked at the other clone present on the hovering device, not surprised to realize it wasn’t Oh-Hundred. As the man recovered and put her handcuffs back on, the silver haired woman looked over her shoulder, meeting the glaring Gaze of Cad Bane.  
As the platform drifted away, she turned around to fully face him before raising both her hands to her lips and blowing a kiss to the duros, who just rolled his eyes and looked away at the gesture.  
Yep. The step back had been worth it.

\--

The council room bared a heavy silence.

Not that this was abnormal; The council room was always silent when Ashoka had walked through its doors. No, that wasn’t what was out of place, today.  
It was the atmosphere, so dense you could almost reach out and take a bite; The unpleasant kind that lingered on the circular walls whenever the subject at hand was going to be serious and end with punishment.

The togruta looked up at her master, standing next to her in the middle of the room. She knew what this ordeal would be about, knew from the moment they were called up, but she still didn’t feel prepared to face the council about it in any way.

Though she wasn’t involved directly, she didn’t say or do anything when Anakin beat up Rako Hardeen to a pulp in front of that Nikto in her bed, then beat him up when he tried to intervene. In fact, when her master ordered her to hold down the bounty hunter to properly take care of the poor male, the girl did just as she was told. She also didn’t raise a finger when he dragged the woman up the stairs of the senate in that humiliating state. It was only as she saw that imagery, she realized what she’d done was wrong, and when Padme stepped into the courtroom, the padawan felt like she’d failed the senator, personally. She recognized that doing nothing made her as guilty as her master.  
“Knight Skywalker, Padawan Tano.” Windu spoke up, slicing through the thick silence. “After long dispute regarding the… incident at the Senate yesterday, we decided it was for the best of everyone involved we share some details regarding our most recent undercover mission.” The man seemed at unease, his tone carrying something almost akin to guilt.

The duo standing at the room’s center shared a confused glance, not making the correlation between what happened at the senate could have anything to do with an undercover mission.  
Grandmaster Yoda raised a hand, signaling he would speak as all in the room turned to listen.

“Alive, Master Kenobi, is.”

Ashoka had been wrong; compared to the void of space that came after that last statement, the council was always in a bracket.

“…Are you fucking with me, master?” Master Windu’s face, as well as the rest of the councillers, turned to stone, eyes bursting with offence.  
Before any of them could say something, however, Yoda gestured they keep quiet.

“The truth, I am telling you.” The older sentient said, voice unwavering. “On an undercover mission, she is.”

Ashoka felt her throat constrict, a confusing storm of happiness, anger, sadness, and betrayal stirring violently in her head.

“Why weren’t we told before?” The words fell out of her mouth before she could catch them. Tha padawan had never realized the council room’s floor looked so interesting, before.

“Necessary, it was, for the mission’s success. Selling her death, your mourning- “The grandmaster halted as Anakin turned on his heels and stomped to the door.

“Anakin!” Mace called out, to be ignored as the brunette shoved one of the temple guards blocking his way and stomped through the opened door before it slid shut behind him.

“Let him go, we must; Time, to digest what we have told him, he needs.” Master Yoda said as he put a hand on Mace’s shoulder, stopping him from following the Jedi Knight.

“What kind of undercover mission needs so much precaution Master Kenobi couldn’t tell us?” The togruta, now the only one standing in the room, asked out loud. She looked as her palms, where she had held the woman’s corpse not even two days ago. Her body had been so cold.

She squinted at the lines gracing the skin, suddenly overthrown with great sadness.  
She felt exploited, almost. The togruta wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she should bear to that.

“We received staggeringly accurate intel criminal mastermind Moralo Eval is planning to kidnap the Chancellor.” Windu replied with a professional tone that didn’t match his face. He gazed apologetically at the Padawan, like a silent gesture to try and comfort her. “We sent Obi-Wan to infiltrate the prison he currently resides in, as to get in his inner circle and gather information on his plan so we could intercept it. This is where Obi-Wan is, as we speak.”

Ashoka paused, looking back at the Korun as realization dawned on her.

Undercover.  
Prison.  
She raised a hand atop one of her montral, a new flurry of confusing feeling stacking atop the ever-growing mountain in her mind.

Oh, what had they done?

“She’s disguised as Hardeen, isn’t she?”

A pause.

“Yes.” The togruta took a deep breath, closing her eyes. This just complicated things even more.

She dreaded having to tell Anakin.

“Padawan Tano.” She opened her eyes slowly, looking back at Grandmaster Yoda. “Free to go, you are. Dismissed, this council meeting is.”

One by one, the council members got up their seat and left the room, leaving the Padawan standing there. She realized, as she looked back to the seats, that master Windu had made no move to get up from his.

She winced. If this was to lecture her on her temperament, she really didn’t want to hear it right now. The Jedi master got up, slowly, before joining her at the center of the room.

“Ashoka.” He said, softly. “I’m in no position to ask this of you right now, but please watch over your master. If- “He paused, looking at a wall, as if to search his words. “If he does something that worries you, would you tell me?”

The togruta sighed under her breath, frowning at the unusual question.

“For what, exactly?” she defied, looking the man in the eyes. She wasn’t willing to be used unknowingly again, council member or no.

“I think I might hold the right keys to help solve some of it.” He replied.” I can’t tell you the details, because it bears extreme risks, but I can assure you it won’t hurt your master in any way.” He added honestly. Ashoka’s frown grew deeper.

She didn’t like this, but at the same time she knew he wasn’t trying to trick him; Everything he said, she felt it was true.

The padawan also felt doing as Master Windu said was the best course of action. She didn’t want to just stand and watch, again, when she knew she had the power to fix it.

And so, she nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Windu's scheming. Oh boy, will this become a fucked up fix-it?


	4. Four Stripes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome.  
> To the Filthy UFO show.  
> It has come to my attention I don't fully know what the Chap Summary is for, but that's ok.  
> I'd also like to say I'm deeply sorry to you guys that are here for the shit jokes and Mae West quotes(If you guys even exist. If so, I salute you.)  
> Finally: Am I the only one that was kind of bummed Obi-Wan didn't use the weight bar in the original episode?  
> Hope you enjoy, and thank you to everyone that left me comments and kudos!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading, I'd like to tell the ones that didn't see my latest note on chap 3 that I edited it as to make a character more consistent, so if you feel like Oh-Hundred goes to a hundred (get it) real quick, that might be why.
> 
> Also, I'll put a warning here because I'm not sure to what extent this is covering it, but better safe than sorry:  
> If you read between the lines this has hinted dubcon. (Nothing happens, however; it's a kind of "It could have happened" situation)

Walking through the training room, Hardeen quickly noticed that everyone looked at her as she stepped in, then not once again afterwards. It seemed the inmates learned to mind their own business after the cafeteria incident.

Good. She didn’t need the extra attention while she commed in.

The woman walked over to the weight bench, where a Trandoshan was helping a Rodian lifting the heavy bar atop of him.  
She stilled near the pair, clearing her throat to take the two male’s attention.

“Wouldn’t mind giving the spot to me, boys?” She asked playfuly, passing a hand through her red colored hair ends. The trandoshan lifted the weight’s handlebar to its stand, tongue perking out, tasting the air as he inspected her up and down.

“We were just leaving.” The Rodian said, sitting up on the padded bench before standing up near his fellow inmate. Unlike his friend, that one seemed to try to avoid looking at her as much as possible.

“I could steady the bar for you if you’d like.” The other male suggested, smirking at her. She replied in a similar fashion, tilting her head.

“I can steady myself just fine, thank you.” She replied teasingly, taking a seat on the bench under the two male’s gaze. The vixen’s grin grew wider at the uncomfortable glance the Rodian passed between them, before pushing his friend away from the bench.  
She lifted a leg over the bench, as to saddle it, not paying attention to the duo that was walking away. The silver haired woman trusted the rodian to be clever enough to keep the two of them out of her hair for the time being.

Raising a hand over her head, resting it on her opposing shoulder as she gripped its elbow wither other hand, she stretched the muscles along her side.  
Transitioning to the other side, she reached under the bench furtively, feeling around the metal surface, when she felt a small elevation under her finger.

The comm. Just what she was looking for.

She grabbed it before sliding it under her sleeve, bringing an elbow up to stretch her opposite side, sliding the ear bud into place.  
After a short scan of the room, as to assure no one was looking at her, she turned the comm on.

“This is Ben. I found the transmitter, but I’ll have to make this short; we have a problem.” She said under her breath, leaning forward as she reassured herself no one was watching her.” I made,” her gaze trailed off momentarily. “Contact with Moralo Eval. He nearly told me his plan, but Cad Bane cut our negotiations short.”

“Cad Bane? We had no intel they were in league together.” Obi-Wan pressed her lips in the faintest of smile hearing Mace’s voice before replying;

“It seems Eval Hired Bane to break him out of prison. From the way they were talking, it’s imminent.”

“Foolish, we were, to believe Bane’s capture was without purpose.” Master Yoda’s voice said, tracing once more a faint smile as she felt her built nerves soothe.  
being locked between four walls didn’t seem to do anything to keep her stabilised, worse even that it’s been a day since she’s last had a drink.  
Realising she was stalling, the woman forced herself to refocus.

“Yes, but we could make this work for us; Eval expressed how he was interested in hiring me for the plot. If they try to escape, I’ll stick to them and may be able to convince him to change his mind. No doubt if I stick around him for long enough, we’ll learn some details about the plot, or even about his superiors.” She said, scanning the room once more. All clear for now.

“Good Idea, Obi-Wan. Just be careful not to blow your cover. It could take a while to extract you from prison.” Mace Windu’s voice warned as the tattooed woman noded, showing she understood.

“One last detail, before you leave, we must tell you.” The second Jedi master on the other end spoke up. “Know you are alive; Anakin and Ashoka do.”

“What!” She exclaimed, a bit louder than she had anticipated. She quickly looked around to confirm she didn’t draw any attention. “Why- “the woman cut herself as the sight of a guard approaching. “Gotta go.” She hissed in the device before turning it off.  
She let her arms fall on both sides, sighing.

The woman leaned back until her shoulder blades pressed against the lukewarm and somewhat sticky fabric of the weighting bench.  
Her mind wandered to the arrest. No doubt that was the reason why they’d told her former padawan and grand padawan, but she would have loved to be notified before they acted upon it.

She knew Anakin had a temperament, one would have to be blind not to notice, but… He was just, so angry, all the time.  
She thought it came from the mission on Zygerria, but no, it was too recent; Anakin had been angry even before they cut off his braid.

She squinted at the metal bar atop of her.

At first it didn’t really throw her off; Windu was in almost constant anger as well, but he never acted upon his anger, or let him consume him.  
But Anakin… Anakin had been so violent. Merciless. She could still recall the unshakable grip in her hair, and how numb her face had felt when the early morning breeze brushed against it.

She winced, putting a hand on her stomach. She could use a bottle of whiskey, right about now.

She tried not to focus on the feeling of having failed her padawan, her friend. It would throw off her character.  
She glared at the steel bar. Oh, well aren’t you the thoughtful one, Master Obi-Wan? A part of her spoke up. Mission comes first, fuck Anakin’s feelings, am I right? it said, judgementally.

Her nose scrunched up as she expected the hex-like pattern along the steel bar atop her.

She could recall icy blue eyes looking at her in pure hatred, despaired.

She reached up, gripping the bar. It was warm from being used a few minutes ago.  
She squeezed her hands harder against the metal, pushing up, feeling the toll of gravity upon it.  
She pressed her lips thin, now glaring at the ceiling fan. With large effort, she lifted the bar, straightening her arms as much as she could, before dropping the bar mere inches from her chin, and up again before repeating the cycle once more.

The weight was too heavy, but she persevered, even when her arms wailed in protest.  
The silver haired woman heard the patrolling guard’s footsteps halt to a stop close by, but she didn’t spare him any attention as she groaned in frustration, lifting the bar up once more.

What was she doing?  
Why in the Sith’s hell did she think this was a good idea to take this mission?

he lifted the bar once more, her joints burning underneath her skin as she gritted her teeth in effort.  
As she tried to drop the bar once more, her arm failed and almost landed on her throat, making the staring guard shout after her.  
But the woman persevered, forcing against the bar with guttural groan.

“Inmate Hardeen, stop it!” She ignored the red armored clad man, lifting the bar once more.

She didn’t have alcohol or painkillers at hand, but the numb pain in her arms and chest would do for now. She just needed a bit more…

“Inmate hardeen!” The guard grew impatient, reaching for the steel bar in the woman’s grip.

As the clone attempted to put the weighting bar back in its stand, the silver haired woman lifted a leg and kicked him in the stomach, hissing in protest.

As the groan of pain teared at the air, Obi-Wan snapped out of her reverie.

The hollow feeling of dread started to creep between her joints, the strain on her body not enough to numb it down.

She lifted the bar to its stand and letting go of it, attempting to straighten on her elbows but instantly regretting it when her muscles seered in pain. She gave up, instead focusing onto the guard, who was doubled over.

“little gods are you- “she was abruptly interrupted when the guard gripped her by the arm, forcing her up.

“Come with me.” He ordered harshly, pulling her along to the door. The woman winced in pain as he squeezed her aching biceps, sparking pain as far as the tip of her fingers.

Being shorter than the man, she tried as best as she could to follow his rapid pace, failing a few times and tripping on her own legs along the way.  
The clone didn’t let her recover, handling her by the arm so she could stand up straight again without taking a break from walking.

“You walk correctly, will you?” He threatened, clearly annoyed as he tugged her forward.

She did what was asked as best as she could, but after a good minute, the guard tugged her forward too harshly and she fell face first on the metal floor of the prison’s corridor.

As she struggled to push herself up on her aching arms, she heard the man groan in annoyance atop of her.

“Get up.” He ordered, but to no avail, her muscles wailed in agony under her weight, refusing to help her up. “I said Get up, it’s your own fault for screwing up your arms!” the guard pointed out, making no move to help her.

Guilt rid the woman’s aching bones. Why did her stupid fixation with alcohol come and bite her in the ass again?

“Djee, what are you doing?” A voice twin to the guard’s spoke up. It was low, calm. she lifted her head to the floor level, she noticed another pair of plastoid boots joining the ones currently standing near her.

“She hit me. I’m bringing her to the security department, so she can be properly punished for it.”  
The new pair of boots shifted, showing off the strap underneath the shin and calf pieces of his armor.

“that doesn’t explain why she’s on the floor.” Finally, able to bring herself to sit up using her elbows and the remaining strength in her middle, Obi-Wan got a good view of the newcomer, surprised to realise, by the specific scratches and four-striped armpieces that it was Oh-Hundred.

“She fell.”

“Well yes I can see that.” The senior clone replied, keeping calm as he gestured to the woman. He reached down and grabbed her by the arm, lifting her so she could stand up. “But I’ll make you notice she’s walking around without any handcuffs,” He shifted his grip to her wrist, passing the mentioned durasteel device over it with his other. “And that when something like that happens, you’re supposed to tell a superior, so they can handle it. Your job is to supervise the gym, right?”

“Well- “

“If that’s so, you’re not doing your job right now.” Oh-Hundred pointed out as he tested the hold of the handcuffs. His tone, though showing no signs of aggression, was cold.

“Oh, don’t be so harsh on Djee over here, he knows I like it a bit rough.” Both clone’s gaze snapped to the inmate, who had been silent until now.

“Trap it, Hardeen.” Oh-Hundred ordered as a smirk grew on the woman’s face.

“Oh, now, can’t I speak my mind? This is the Republic, after all.” She tilted her head, letting some if her hair rest over her shoulder. The man holding her restraints tugged at them, destabilising her slightly.

“Don’t bring the Republic into this. Behave.” His voice was ice.

“The only way I know how to behave is to misbehave.” She replied playfully, smiled growing after hearing the clone kept quiet. She snuck a glance at the other guard present, who’s helmet hid his reaction, but she was almost certain he was confused. The woman hoped the guard wouldn’t question her sudden change in demeanor, but she was more concerned about Oh-Hundred growing suspicious if she didn’t stick to her original act.

“Just, get back to your post, I’ll bring her to the security department myself.” He grunted, tugging the woman away.

“But- “The guard protested but quickly shut his mouth when Oh-Hundred took a single step towards him.

Djee skittered away anxiously before looking at the ground in a nearly submissive manner.

“Yes, sir.”

“It was a pleasure to meet you, darling, we’ll resume another time.” She winked at the guard as Oh-Hundred pulled the silver vixen further away. They rounded a corner, leaving Djee to look at his boots uneasily.

Obi-Wan let herself be concerned for a just a second before locking it away at the back of her mind to focus on staying in character.

“Dear me, Oh-Hundred, I didn’t even ask how you were doing- “A gloved hand grappled the back of her neck harshly, making her choke on her breath.

“Shut up, Hardeen.” The trooper ordered, tone low and menacing. A moment passed before he shoved her forward, making her stumble and nearly fall once again as she choked on her breath.

“My, no need to be so aggressive- “She tried to quip before the hand gripped at her throat again, tighter this time. The man drew her close to his helmet, her blue eyes bulging as she fought for air.

“You shut the fuck up, or I’m dragging you by the hair, understood?” He gritted, releasing her throat slightly to let her breathe, bearly.

Hardeen didn’t reply, only coughed half her lungs out. Her eyes skimmed around the corridor to see the small traffic of guards and inmates that walked through them look away.

“Tell me you understand.” Oh-hundred ordered, squeezing again as he shoved her closer, forcing her to focus solely on him.  
The woman lifted her bound hand at her throat, wheezing a cry of pain as she nodded as best as she could in the strong grip, only for it to squeeze tighter.

She wanted to free herself, so badly.

Stick to the mission, stick to the mission, she repeated as the lack of oxygen started to get to her head.

“No, tell me; Am I understood?” Tears gathered at her eyes.

“Y-yes.” She managed to rasp out, only to let out a sob as the trooper shoved her closer, nearly hitting her forehead against his helmet’s visor.

“That’s not how you address a superior officer.” He said, mocking her. “Try again; Am I understood?”

The Woman tried to claw at the hand again, to no great success before she filtered enough oxygen through her lungs to reply.

“Y-Yes, sir…” She wheezed between two throat retching coughs, relief washing over her when the officer finally let go.

“Good.” Oh-Hundred stated, satisfied. He tugged her forward by the handcuffs, ignoring as she continued to wretch her lungs out for her breath for the next minute, stumbling around on her trembling legs.

As a silence fell between the two, the silver haired woman looked at the metal ground. She felt tears she hadn’t noticed falling drying on her cheeks as she sniffled.

They walked for a good two minutes without a word, turning left, then passing a corridor. The repetitive patterns of the metal floor combined with the harsh lights made the silver haired woman’s vision slightly blur at its edges.

The woman kept sniffling until Oh-Hundred slowly turned his head towards her, making her stop instantly.  
As the guard turned back around, she noticed the man’s shoulder twitch lightly, though he said nothing.

They turned right at the next intersection, making the silver haired woman’s brows scrunch, confusion overpowering her vertigo.

Obi-Wan wasn’t well acquainted with the layout of the place, but she was nearly certain that the security department was to the left at that turn. However, she didn’t want to question the guard’s authority; She just knew wouldn’t be able to stop herself from using the force if he decided to strangle her for disobeying him again.

The chirping of a comm filled the empty corridor.  
Why was this corridor empty, anyway?

“Oh-Hundred! Where are you! There’s a mass breakout in the cafeteria, we need backup!” The voice coming through shouted, making the inmate wince while the guard kept silent for a long second.

“I’ll be right there.” He finally replied, bitter as he tugged the woman’s arm, an unvoiced order to go faster.

They jogged through the corridor, then turned right before the man abruptly stopped in front of a normal automated door with no sign attached onto it.

He quickly punched in a code into its interacting interface and shoved Hardeen in as soon as the door slid open, enveloping her in darkness.

Oh, a closet.

Lovely.

“You stay here.” Oh-Hundred ordered gruffly, squeezing her arm a bit tighter than was necessary as to spark painfully under her skin. The light of the corridor cast a dramatic shadow on his helmet, removing any sort of vivacity from the white plastoid of his armor or its red markings.

Realising too late that silence was the wrong answer, Oh-Hundred squeezed her arm tighter, making the rest of her arm throb at the lack of blood flow.

“Tell me you understand.” He hissed.

“Yes, sir.” She whispered between gritting teeth.

Satisfied, the man let go of her arm, his arm gently brushing the sleeve of her uniform before speaking up again.

“Don’t make a sound.” He said before closing the door, leaving her in the dark.

The silver haired woman listened to plastoid boots sprint away as the muffled sound of a siren reached her ears from the corridor, hammering in her head. She inaudibly groaned, taking slow breaths as she stared through the room’s darkness, slowly forcing her migraine away.

Back to the mission, she told herself while assuring herself the trooper was gone. She let her forehead press onto the steel door, slightly cold to the touch.

The alarm had gone off because of Eval and Bane, the woman was certain. She had to act quickly, lest they slip through her fingers.

She quickly took care of her handcuffs with a flick of the force through its mechanism, letting the thick armatures clatter on the closet floor.  
Massaging the sore joints, the silver haired woman kept going with her breathing exercises, finding her center. She needed all her concentration to lock pick the door, seeming she couldn’t physically see the interface.

Pressing a palm on the cool closet door, she reached through the layer of steel with the force to follow the cables hidden beneath its silver hide until she traced them to the lock mechanism.

Brow twinging, she delicately pushed the dials around with telekinetic nudges, pouring all her concentration to her task.  
Her lips twitched when the steel slid beneath her fingers as the door slid open.  
Obi-Wan one, migraine zero.

She opened her eyes, squinting slightly at the sudden change in brightness, but quickly stepped out and sprinted away under the flashing crimson lights, ignoring her wobbly legs.  
She let the force guide her to the two men she was searching for, quietly surprised to find them a few corridors away.

Where had Oh-Hundred taken her, exactly?

Turning left, then sprinting down the hall, she quickly dodged a group of guards hurrying along an intersection, going unnoticed.

As she turned a left, she failed to hear that one of the pairs of plastoid boots immobilised.

\--

The control panel flashed red for what seemed like the twentieth time.

“I thought you knew the input for this door” Bane snarled between his teeth, turning to his partner.

“They changed it! They didn’t do this last time.” The bounty hunter explained, punching another code in only for it to deny access, as it did before. “Blast!” He shouted at the little flashing screen, mocking him.

“So that’s your brilliant escape plan, the morgue?” a woman’s voice called from afar, the echo filling the corridor carrying it.

The duo trailed the voice to its origin, to find none other than Rako Hardeen, leaning nonchalantly on one of the corridor’s walls a few meters away from them.

“You!” Bane spat as he pointed a finger at her. “How did you find us?”

“It’s lovely to see you too, Bane.” The silver vixen casually replied, inspecting her fingernails. Her brows were lightly furrowed, nearly a crack in her suave mask.

“Hardeen. So glad to see you join us.” Eval spoke up, getting a a simple smirk and nod of the head as a reply as the woman stepped closer.  
She casually watched as bane punched in another code only for the door to stay still.

“Having problems with the door, dear?” The Duros hissed in annoyance under his breath, keeping focus on the screen.

“Don’t call me that, flasher.” He grumbled as he punched another code in. Denied once more.

“My, no need to be so rude. I was only going to suggest a faster approach.” Her grin slightly stretched when finally catching Bane’s attention.

“And what do you suggest?” He said, arms falling to his sides once more.

“I can override the door.” She explained casually.

Silence.

“You could have cut to the chase!” The Duros shouted at her while noting the twitch of displeasure passing on the woman’s face.

“Now, where would the fun be in that?” She replied in a singsong, earning her an annoyed groan from Bane. “Now, move over. You might want to look out for guards, it could take a minute.” She warned, crouching to the bounty hunter’s eye level.

Without a reply, the duros let her take his spot as he gestured to Eval to watch the other side of the tunnel as he looked the opposite way.

He didn’t trust the woman, but if she was their key to get out of there…

Bane peeked out the intersection, only to notice a guard stepping around the corner on the very end of the corridor.

Without a second wasted, the bounty hunter hid back into the tunnel, flattening himself against its closest wall.

Four stripes.

He looked over at Hardeen, who was crouched near the door’s interacting surface as she put the protective plate back over it.  
With her hair out of the way, he could see an undeniable purpling bruise circling her neck, riding just atop her uniform’s collar.

Oh, this was worse than he thought. He watched as she pressed a single button on the interface, making the door slide open.

“There, all- “

“Shut it, girlie.” he woman whipped around, frowning, but thank the maker she was clever for once and kept her trap shut when the duros stopped her, putting a finger over his mouth as he heard footsteps approaching.

He turned over to his partner, who shot him a questioning glance. He looped his finger together, making an “o” with his index and thumb, then put a single index up, before finally tapping his index and thumb twice while in a loop. Everyone knew this sign in here.

He gestured to the door, urging him voicelessly to get inside.

The bounty hunter quickly followed suit, trailed closely by Hardeen before she closed the door behind them.  
The three stood still, listening for activity in the corridor.

Bane slowly turned to the silver haired woman.

For a moment, the bounty hunter considered knocking her out and leaving her there. She was what Oh-Hundred wanted; If he had her, he wouldn’t even consider checking the pods for him and Eval.

Settling on his improvised plan, he took a single step towards her as her gaze whipped around to meet his, stopping him dead in his tracks.  
The blue irises knew what he was about to do. The woman baring them wasn’t scared, however, in fact she seemed to invite him to try.

“Get into the pods.” He ordered, breaking eye contact with the woman to reach the three contraptions.

The two others wasted no time scrambling to the pods and getting inside them. Bane was on the verge of getting in his, when he caught the gaze of Hardeen as she climbed into her own.  
She smirked at him, tilting her chin forward.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily.” She whispered before laying down, out of his view.

Taking a deep breath through clenched teeth, the bounty hunter closed his own casket over himself, surrounding him in darkness just a few seconds before the door slid open.

Plastoid boots stepped into the room.

The bounty hunter swallowed under his breath. There were no regulators nearby. What had been a blessing just a few minutes back was now a curse.

And then the door slid open once more.

“Oh-hundred, what are you doing here?” A morgue Officer. Bane closed his eyes in relief.

The guard stayed silent.

“You’re not supposed to be here, you know.” Another pause.

“I know.”

“then what are you doing standing there, get out.”

“But- “

“Don’t make me pull rank on you.” Another pregnant pause.

“Yes, sir.”

Plastoid boots tapped on the floor and the door slid shut behind them.

“That Oh-hundred guy, I tell you.” One of the officers sighed.

“I know. He gives me the creeps.” The other one said as he moved around the pods, closer to Hadreen’s.” These are full.”

The other groaned in annoyance.

“Yeah, give me a moment I’ll send them down. This is a rough night.” The other sighed, stepping to the far right.  
And at the press of a button, they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stripes man bad.


	5. Frosty Finish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow! So it's been 84 years, how are are you all?  
> I don't really have an excuse as of why it took me so long to get this chapter out. I struggled to figure how I wanted to write it, rewrote my script like, a good 10 times and procrastinated for way too long. Regrardless, I'm pretty happy of how this turned out and hopefully you will too.  
> Thank you once again for all the Kudos and kind words. Those are my sustenance.  
> Enjoy, hopefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also want to note I'll be re-writing and modifying some chapters of this fic. I already re-worked the entire first chapter. The original script of those chapters will be available in the attached work "Hardeen Will Because Hardeen Can."

Hardeen slipped on a dark fur coat, passing a hand over the thick fabric.

A check of quality, the bounty hunter sitting a few meters away mused. He watched as she looked herself over in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. she was pleased with the look.

Bane chewed on the toothpick hanging from his mouth, glaring at the little tote bag sitting innocently on the vanity. A pale hand rummaged through it, fishing out a khol pencil.  
He chewed more sourly as the woman lined her eyes. As if she sensed his bitterness, the woman peered at him through the mirror moments later. He looked away.

“Like what you see?” She asked, making the duros growl in annoyance. He despises that voice.

“I can’t believe you convinced Eval to waste his money on… that.” The duros gestured to the pencil. Hardeen’s lips stretched to her signature sultry smile. Though Bane cannot see it, he despised it as well.

“Ah, well,” The woman finally looked away, resuming her work “Beauty is a weapon, mister Bane, a weapon I do my best to abuse.”

Rolling his eyes, Bane chewed his toothpick with a smidge more enthusiasm. glancing back at her refection, he found Hardeen completely focused with the application of the pencil onto her lids.

His lips twitches in amusement; even with a brief knowledge of makeup, he could tell she was struggling quite a bit. How hypocritical, considering her little speech.

Deciding he’d had his share of the vixen for now, he skimmed through Pablo’s shop instead. The rodian had collected a fair bit of trinkets since he’d last visited. He wondered if the man picked up a hat or two.

Keeking an eye peeled for a new hat, he mulled over his current situation.

It wasn’t the first time Bane had to deal with her type. Not by a long shot. A bounty hunter did not stay one for long if they didn’t know how to handle those parasites.

But he, he had been in this profession for decades. Dealing with them was just part of the job for the duros, at this point.

But Hardeen, for all she was annoying, was efficient; the viper had only required a few minutes alone with Eval during their hyperspace jump and her ingenious way to get rid of the ship to wrap the phindian around her finger.

Dare he say, he’d be impressed if he wasn’t on the short end of the stick. This kind development wasn’t profitable. One didn’t need to be a bounty hunter to notice this.

He unwrapped his arms, hooking his thumbs to his front pockets. The woman was still struggling with that pencil. Her neck was exposed, revealing a band of black fabric, hiding purpling skin underneath its soft material.

Cad Bane was a bounty hunter. An amazing one at that. He’s seen worse than a woman abused by a prison guard. He’d kidnapped kids and gave them away to a man he was certain would kill them, which, in his book, was far worse.  
but for Hardeen, he hesitated.

Throwing her to Oh-Hundred whould have been a breeze for him, but now, because of his moment of mercy, Eval had grown attached and getting rid of her would be astoundingly difficult. Bane will have to either draw some sense into Eval, which already sounded like too much work; because it was fucking Moralo Eval. Or, get rid of her by other means and pretend it wasn’t him.

Bane smacked his lips in discontent. For no credits, it was also too much work.

peering at the woman’s reflection, he found cold blue eyes boring into his.

His gaze snapped elswhere, pretending to find whatever kind of metal contraption over that top shelf to be very interesting.

The small room was dead silent for a moment before the rummaging of makeup tools inside a duffle bag resumed.

Why was it every time he thought to get rid of her, he had the impression she knew, somehow?

Having had enough of whatever that contraption was, the bounty hunter skimmed the other shelves, finally focusing on a wide brimmed hat sitting atop of one.  
Bane knew Pablo would have a few good hats in stock. He got up, subtly stretching his back as he did so.

Reaching the shelf, he grabbed the hat by the brim and dusted it with the back of his hand.

Pondering on the two options he conceived, Bane quickly inspected the quality of the material before putting it atop his head.  
Not the nicest hat, but it would do for now.

He was about to sit back down when his gaze found Hardeen once more. She had discarded her khol pencil and now lightly applied some red tinted cream over her cheeks.

For someone in her line of work, Hardeen applied a very sensible amount of paint, he noted.

The door of the little entrepot swung open, taking both their attention. In came Eval, shortly followed by Pablo and his wife.  
The phindian didn’t even glance at him and went straight for Hardeen, casually wrapping an arm around her hip. She tilted her head, a knowing smile gracing her lips as she let him press her against his side.

“A wonderful choice, Hardeen.” He commented, taking in the woman’s new look. Though a fur jacket hid her arms and a trusty pair of pants hung on her hips, the tight bodysuit she picked for a top rode high enough on her hips to show a peak of pale flesh. The sleeveless design left nothing to the imagination in the chest area, either.

Bane might have thought she painted light for her profession, but she certainly dressed the part.

For once in her life, the woman didn’t reply with some stupid one-liner and pet the phindian’s shoulder affectionately instead. She graced Pablo with a warm smile, forced, somewhat, but still believable.

“Yes.” Pablo agreed. “Would there be anything else you desire? A new ship, perhaps?” He asked a bit too enthusiastically. The rodian rubbed his hands together with a light bow, a gesture Bane knew all too well.

“Your choice in weapons is lousy, Pablo. How ‘bout you tell us where to get good ones instead?” He called out, prawling to the shop owner.

“Being on the run as you are, I wouldn’t be picky, Bane.” The rodian replied coyly.  
The bounty hunter chuckled before grabbing the latter by the throat, shoving him against a row of shelves.

“I’d keep my mouth shut, if I were you.” The duros threatened, tightening his grip enough to hurt before violently pulling him away.

Pablo bent in half, gripping his neck as he gasped for air. His wife bolted to his side, moping something in Twi’leki the bounty hunter couldn’t and didn’t care to understand.

He stormed off, not bothering to pay on his way out of the store.

Eval Quickly followed, dragging Hardeen along. Throwing them a pained look, the woman furtively slipped a few credits out of the phinian’s pockets and let them fall on the pawn shop’s floor before they got out the door.

Having stomped off earlier than both her and Eval, the two were left alone in the crowd while he walked ahead.  
Hardeen let herself be guided, trying to slip her mask back on, but the imagery of Bane strangling the shop owner painted red stripes in the back of her mind.

Distracted by her inner conflict, she instinctively batted the hand sliding down her hip away, to realise moments later it was Eval’s.

Peering at the phinian, she found him unamused.

“Why suddenly so modest, Hardeen?” He asked, leaning to lace an arm around her once more.

Fluidly, the silver haired woman pressed herself at his side, grappling his arm and pecking him on the cheek.

“Because I did not deny you.” She whispered, guiding his hand back to her waist.

“You did not deny me.” The phinian replied mechanically.

A moment passed before Eval snapped back to attention. A coy smile stretched onto his lips, quickly copied by the woman at his side.

“You are a bold woman to let Eval handle you like this in public, Hardeen.” With an unwavering smirk, Hardeen passed a hand over his arm.

“Nonsense. I’m as modest as it gets.” She quipped as they approached Bane, who had turned around and now stared at their exchange in disgust.  
Now completley refocused, Hardeen shift her gaze towards the duros.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Now we’ll need a new ship and some weapons.” Bane replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Chewing at his toothpick, the bounty hunter considered the silver haired woman.

On one hand, Hardeen scrapped the ship, so it was fair she went to buy the new one. On another, he didn’t trust her out of his sight. He’d made another mistake of leaving the two alone; they needed to be separated.

Thinking about it once over and settling on his best option, he turned to Eval.

“I know a good weapons dealer nearby. You go and buy our new ship. I’ll bring girlie here with me.”  
The phindian’s smile turned into a frown.

Bane squared his shoulders, ready to face what would probably be some ridiculous argument, when Hardeen jumped to the rescue.

“So, you do enjoy my company!” She exclaimed, drawing an annoyed groan out of the bounty hunter. “I never doubted it for a second!” She added in with a smirk.

“I just don’t trust you with the ship!” Bane spat, glaring at her. She was fully aware he was lying.

In one fluid motion, the vixen left the phindian’s side to invade his own personal space, lacing an arm around his own. Bane tried to bat her off but, surprisingly, she had a very strong grip.

“In denial, I see! Very typical of you, mister Bane” She poked with a wink.

“Shut up!” Bane demanded, still trying to shake her off.

“It’s all right, your secret is safe with me.” She trailed on, holding on despite his protest.

Taking a deep breath, the bounty hunter tried to calm the bubbling urge to snap the woman’s neck wile Eval was still watching. He barely succeeded.  
Meanwhile, the phindian watched the exchange in amusement, his suspicion towards Bane pushed aside.

“All right. I will go get our ship. You and Hardeen take care of the weapons.” He said. “Moralo Eval will meet the two of you at this very spot in an hour.”

With a final wave, which Hardeen made sure to reply in the most embarrassing way possible, the two parties went their separate ways.

“so, is this dealer not far from here?” Hardeen asked casually as they blended in the market’s crowd. Bane just grumbled in reply, shutting down her attempt at small talk. “My, always in a sour mood.” She commented with a cocked eyebrow, glancing elsewhere.

The bounty hunter sighed in frustration, accelerating his pace. The quicker they arrived at Leena’s shop, the less time he’ll have to endure the woman’s company.

The next few minutes were spent in silence, to Bane’s delight. He barley even noticed she still grappled his arm. When he did, he was forcefully reminded the pillow-y sensation pressing against him wasn’t her coat. A half-assed attempt at seduction as old as time, he mused to himself as he shoved the thought in the back of his mind.

Hardeen, however, wasn’t trying to seduce him at all; she simply struggled keeping up with his fast pace. Her biggest concern was the possibility she might fall and land in the mud.

shuffling a hand in his pocket, Bane felt the credits Eval lent him for the weapons. They had four thousand, which were more than enough to get good quality blasters for all three of them.  
That is, he mused, if Hardeen even knew how to use it properly.

The bounty hunter’s mind wandered. Credits. Maybe he could bribe Hardeen to just walk away. Once they made it to his own ship, he could offer her a hefty sum to just leave them be, and her, being as she is, most likely would.

He wasn’t liking the idea of giving away his precious credits, but out of all his options, this was the least time consuming and more importantly, destined to work; the only people in the galaxy that preferred credits over bounty hunters were the parasites of her kind.

Content with his new plan, he looked back toward the woman, who busied herself by scanning the crowd furtively. Petting her fur jacket with the tip of her fingers, her usual playful smile was replaced with a passive, if somewhat curious expression. Her gaze lingered on a food vendor nearby, then to the Wee‘quay selling what were probably fake silks.  
Before he could stop himself, he admitted she was pretty like this.

That thought was quickly batted aside, however, when Hardeen stopped dead in her tracks. Her gaze locked onto a stand, which, of course, the duros grumbled in disbelief, was a jewelry vendor’s.

Without a second thought, the woman dragged him towards it, her sly expression resurfacing.

“Hello there!” She called out to the vendor, a Zabrak. The lanky man was busy with some piece that had broken, peered up at them curiously. “How much for this piece over here?”

The peice in question looked horrible; A single chord made of lead which held an amateurishly hand-carved amulet. The only seemingly valuable part of the piece was a small orange crystal with a frosted finish.

“This old thing? Fifty credits.” Hardeen leaned over the presentation table, now leveled with the man.

“If it’s as old as you say, I’ll take it for ten.”

“I won’t go that low. Forty-five.” The vendor crossed his arms defensively.

“Forty-five for this thing? It looks like it was made by a child.” She commented with an accusing finger. “I’ll do thirteen.”

“Fourty, that’s my deal.” Hardeen paused, as if thinking, before speaking up again.

“Tell me, sweetheart, does this piece sell well?” She asked the zabrak innocently.

The zabrak flushed in embarassment. Now taking a second look at him, Bane noted his horns were short for a Zabrak; he was still young, despite his rugged appearance.

“I thought so!” She replied with a sweet smile. “Poor you, someone probably made you believe it was some valuable artifact, yeah?” the vendor flushed a shade darker. “Truly horrible, they played this poor man like some naïve child!” She clung to Bane, who just shoved her off, wanting no part of her antics.

“It’s probably been a few weeks on display, and no one is showing the faintest interest in it, isn’t that right, dear?” She cooed, making the young man square his shoulders in embarrassment. “I’ll take it off your hands. Fifteen credits?” She propositioned, showing off that exact amount in the palm of her hand.

Without a word, the zabrak put a hand forward and accepted them. It’s only as the chips disappeared in his front pocket Bane realized the woman didn’t carry credits herself.

“pleasure doing business with you, sweetheart. Good day.” She said, slipping the necklace in her bodysuit. She then took Bane by the arm and dragged him away from the stall.

“What in the hell was all of this about?” He growled, shoving her away after they made it to the other end of the street.

“It looked so terrible I had to buy it.” Hardeen replied with that awful smile of hers.

“You stole my credits to buy some stupid trinket because it tickled you funny?!” He shouted, grabbing her by her coat.

“Technically, it’s not your money. “ She pointed out, raising her palms in surrender.

“Shut up!” The bounty hunter snapped back, at the end of his patience.

“Now, no need to be so prickly-“Hardeen was interrupted by a fist colliding her face.

“How many times does someone have to tell you to shut up before you do you damned flasher!?” He blew up, raising his fist for a second hit-

But stopped himself when faced with a frosty stare. The woman’s nose had started to bleed, but her expression remained the same. Her jaw was clenched, as if anticipating the next hit.

All of it was done in such a bizzare casualty the duros lowered his fist.

Hardeen snuffed up some of the blood falling out of her nose, only for twice the amount to pour out afterwards. Regardless, she didn’t flinch.

All his hostility he suddenly honed felt exaggerated. He let her go.

“Leena’s shop is over there. Let’s make it quick.” He muttered, tapping her on the arm before walking towards the shop.

She trailed behind him without a single word.


	6. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suprise!  
> Wow, another chapter in so little time, I must finally be getting myself together! (lies)  
> Nevertheless. I think it might be a tad short, but hopefully you enjoy this one regardless.  
> comments are always appreciated!

Mace had noticed her as soon as the door hissed open.

Shuffling through the training room entered Padawan Tano, sans her master.

Requesting a stop to their spar to her former padawan, the woman quickly resigned, having noticed the young togruta as well.

Pretending to look around, but finally giving away and locking gaze with the Jedi master, Ashoka bowed. Shifting her stance awkwardly, she debated whether she should walk over to the korun or stay where she was.  
She didn’t have to choose. He walked over to her himself.

“Padawan Tano. Did you wish to speak to me?”

Tano nodded, shifting her stance once more.

“Yes, Master Windu.” She paused. “You remember you told me to… tell you, if Skyguy were to do something?” She quieted her voice, nearly a whisper. Mace could sense she was disturbed. Truly, the torguta was indeed disturbed, precisely of the fact she even had to stand here.

“Yes, I do remember. Did something happen?” He asked, then backtracked noting her discomfort. “We could go somewhere less crowded to talk, if you would like.”

“No, it’s fine.” She replied, shifting her stance for the third time. “I told Skyguy about… Obi-Wan’s situation.” The togruta trailed off, clasping her hands together. “And he, well, he did a really questionable thing.”

Mace paused.

“What sort of questionable thing?”

\-- 

As the service elevator climbed the senate’s floors, a trooper tried to get a look out through the passing windows. The skyscrapers of the Coruscanti skyline were much grander than the man had remembered them. 

Or, maybe, they were smaller than he remembered them. It was also possible the rapid gain of altitude was obstructing his depth perception. This dilemma was leading nowhere, the he had realised, so he let it slip away without much more care.

Holding himself straight, he peered at the guard to his left. He didn’t know what his sobriquet was- didn’t care much about it, if he was honest- and his armor showed no individual markings, making him indistinguishable from his peer standing at his right. The plastoid didn’t even bare as much as a scratch, signifying that either they both maintained their armor close to perfection or they had never faced combat.

Oh-Hundred weighted both options before tiring of it and deciding that both answers were correct.

Glancing back at the skyscrapers, he twisted his wrists, easing circulation in his bound hands. They were bound too tight. The pair weren’t acquainted well enough with the device to adjust it properly. No matter; they were probably approaching their destination, anyhow. Oh-Hundred didn’t know much about the senate, but it didn’t sound like the kind of building the public, much less the clones, would use to avoid the outside air.

Why he was transported there was unclear; Neither of the vode had cared to explain when they took him from the prison. They contented themselves with presenting a pair of binders and demanding his cooperation instead.  
Oh-Hundred did without protest. If a republican authority wanted to take him, they most certainly had a good reason why.

If he were to be completely honest, however, he expected recondition, but given he’d already gone through that process once before, he knew it didn’t involve this building. That is, of course, if it had been altered but that was irrelevant. he’ll get whatever they have in store for him. It will be the right choice. The Republic made the right choices.

The ground became light, so much he believed he’d detach from it before his legs bared his full weight once more. The opaque walls gave out a thump, hidden mechanisms groaning faintly behind them. The elevator had stopped.

The doors slid open with a hiss and the guards to his right tapped him on the shoulder. A wordless order to turn around, which he obeyed.

The dimly lit hallway outside the elevator was of no great interest; the prime walls were exposed, revealing the insulation blocks and soundproof appliqués bolted underneath, surrounded by durasteel frames. The only detail that stood out was the fact it was so narrow they all had to angle themselves as they proceeded forward.  
Venturing further, they reached what looked like another wall at first but was revealed to be a door as the guard in front slid it to the side, revealing a corridor much like the one they stood in, but a bit tighter in access. When approaching it, Oh-Hundred noted the reason behind this were the reinforced plaques underneath the soundproofing. With this amount of protection, whoever resided on the other side were probably quite important.

Finally, they reached a small reinforced door, the frame too short to take their full height and the interactive board just too low to be at arms reach. The guard closest to it had to bend his knees slightly in order to access it.

Behind the door, there was a room. A hangout post for troops. Benches were mounted onto the walls, alongside hooks designed to hold weapons. A closed paristeel cupboard was welded to the floor at the door’s direct right.

The two guards casually ignored the room. They’d been here before. guiding Oh-Hundred left and around the cupboard, they passed a small opening leading to a corridor, split in another small dent to the right, and finally to another door.

Sliding almost soundlessly, the guards ushered him inside. This room, unlike every other passage he’d encountered in the senate building, was spacious; High ceilings and near thrice the size of the hangout post. The walls were circular, displaying various shelves and artistic curiosities. Behind a large desk, Coruscant Prime was setting, painting the room in a soft orange light.

“Sir. We have brought you CT-0214 as you have asked.” Hearing the clone to his left finally speak up startled Oh-Hundred to attention, staring straight towards the desk. A lone figure sat behind a chair, observing the sunset between the skyscrapers. The dramatic light hid any features Oh-Hundred could have distinguished.

“Excellent. Leave us.” The voice was male. Aged, but holding the poise of superiority. This man, whoever he was, had been powerful for a long time.  
“Boy. Come and sit down.” The man offered politely, gesturing to a circular couch in front of his desk.

Oh-Hundred did as he was asked, but shortly hesitated to sit down. Glancing at the man, his face still indistinguishable from where he was standing, the clone forced himself to sit.

“CT-0214. I’m told you work at the prison here on Coruscant.” The man pointed out.

“Yes sir.” The man’s hands entwined together.

“I’m also told that wasn’t your first assignment. What did you do, before being posted at the prison?” Oh-Hundred shifted, twisting his wrists in his binders.  
Reminder of his previous post never failed to irritated him. It reminded him of him of failure. Even more since she left.

Regardless, the man asking him was of higher authority, so he obeyed.

“I was a soldier in an attack battalion.” The figure seemed to lean his head further into his headrest.

“Really.” The interest in his voice didn’t sound genuine. The guard wondered why the man bothered to interrogate him if he wasn’t truly interested in his answers. “Which battalion, specifically?” His voice pressed on.

Oh-Hundred shifted, reaching his bound hands to his helmet. His jaw clenched. Why was this man so curious about his past?

“The 212th.”

The figure kept quiet, as if distracted. Oh-Hundred felt his nose scrunch up, his jaw clench tighter.

Out the window, Corsuscant Prime had hidden behind the endless buildings to the horizon, leaving the sky a dark orange hue.

“Yes, General Kenobi’s battalion.” The man noted softly, in grief.

The tension that had unknowingly built itself underneath his skin faintly loosened. He gazed as his bound hands

“It is unfortunate she has left us.”

“Yes sir.” The guard said after a pause. He focused onto his right hand. It had been so long, but the ghost of a hand still lingered atop of it. Hauting.

“Do you mourn her, 0214? I have heard you… respected her very much.”

Oh-Hundred’s fists clenched.

He did far more than respect the General, but this confession was for the General’s ears alone. Now that she had left, it would forever be left unsaid.

His transfer, when it did happen, had been intolerable. The first few weeks, Oh-Hundred couldn’t sleep. He was horrified she’d die while he slept, hundreds of lightyears away, not being able to do a single thing about it. Now, not only had his worst nightmare become true, it had become far worse.

The General died on coruscant. Just a few floors atop his head. Like the universe meant to mock him. To remind him of his failure.

“Yes, sir.”

A pause.

“I can understand this. A friend of mine respected her a lot as well. He misses her dearly.” The man explained, leaning further into his chair. “He… coped by resorting to violence, as you may have; many reports from your fellow guards claim you became…quite aggressive following her death. Was it the cause?”

His fists clenched tighter. He could feel his fingernails through his gloves.

So, they had changed the recondition process. Wonderful. Oh-Hundred clenched his teeth and cursed the backstabbing bastards that gave him away.

“So, was it?” The man pressed on.

“Yes… sir.” He confessed. He was already in too deep to lie.

“General Kenobi’s killer resided in your prison. Were you aggressive towards her as well?” The trooper hated how calm that voice talked.

Searching for a detailed answer was hopeless once he was reminded of Hardeen. He felt his entire bloodstream boil to steam, numbing the tip of his fingers.  
He’d known it was a mistake not to kill her on sight.

The universe was mocking him. His misery was all just some grand joke to it, because even if he’d known that was the correct course of action, Hardeen…

When he’d laced his fingers around her neck and the tears had fallen, she looked hopeless, just like the general did.

He wanted to squeeze her tighter, just to see if she’d sing like the general had.

But he remembered Hardeen had killed the General, she wasn’t her.

Hardeen had killed the Geneal and gotten away with it. She would pay for it because it was completely unfair. Had those morgue officers let him look in the caskets…

Those morgue officers would pay too. It was all their fault.

“Would you take revenge on Hardeen, given the chance?” The voice snapped him out of his thoughts, peering once more to the chair in front of him.

His breath ran short.

“So, would, you, CT-0214?” The man asked once more, lacing his fingers together.

Oh-Hundred tried to say something, anything, but to naught. The presence of the emperor, in flesh and blood, had rendered him completely speechless.  
But he did, after a moment, nod.

“Good, 0214.” The man nodded, satisfied with his answer. “Because it appears I can give you this chance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back.  
> Please let me know if you have any comments/criticism regarding Oh-Hundred. It would help me out a lot!


End file.
